An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 12 is out!
We follow Max a week after Lando’s arrival, as he starts losing the last shreds of resistance he has left...
He asks Kimi about his possible crush, only to be met with a deeply perplexed Italian teenager staring at him like he’s just grown three heads.
Featuring: Kimi making plans to get Charles and Max to interact more, Daniel nearly dying of laughter, and Alex having absolutely zero survival instincts when it comes to making Max talk about his feelings.
hi, loves! first of all, i just want to say thank you so, so, so much for 400 followers 🥹 it genuinely means the world to me. thank you, truly.
second... how does a taglist even work? i've never made one before lol. are they usually just for certain fics, or for everything an author posts? would you guys like me to make one?
one more thing: for kimi and kally ↓↓
would you rather see them only as smaus, or would you also like written fics?
Lando is in the houseeeeeee!!!
Or, well… in jail, in this case. Hehe. 🧡🔒
He and Charles are finally reunited, and (as I mentioned in the story summary) Lando meets Oscar and falls embarrassingly hard for him at first sight. Like… immediate system failure 😭💘
Oscar, meanwhile, is understandably baffled.
Meanwhile, Lestappen keeps Lestappening, with Charles testing Max’s reactions and making everything progressively worse every time they get close. 🫠🔥
Charles also shares a little moment with Kimi, who is still a bit shaken after everything that happened. Our poor little duck. 🐥🥺
Also featuring Kimi and Lando meeting and immediately spreading chaos; and George accepting a pudding-related mission as if his life depended on it
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 9 of my Lestappen Jail AU is out! 🤩
GP notices a very suspicious blush on Max’s cheeks, and the two of them end up having a really sweet conversation.
Sebastian lets something slip that makes Charles realize who the person they had in common was.
Then we get to the heart of the chapter: the new tension between Oscar and Max, which leads into three flashbacks revealing why they trust each other so deeply.
And finally, we end with a Lestappen scene featuring handcuffs hehe… plus the promise of Lando’s arrival in the next chapter 👀
I should be able to post the new chapter of my Lestappen (+Landoscar) Jail AU tomorrow!
During the summer break, I’m planning to use the hours I would normally spend watching free practice, qualifying, and the races to write instead, so I should be able to post two chapters a week (on Mondays and Thursdays) until F1 returns. After that, I’ll go back to one chapter per week.
As for the next chapter…
We have GP noticing a very suspicious blush on Max’s cheeks when Charles’s name comes up hehe 😏
Sebastian also desperately needs a raise for the amount of patience he has.
Kimi is a little shaken and starts evolving from duckling to koala 🦆
And then there’s the tension between Oscar and Max, which is the real heart of the chapter. You’ll finally get flashbacks showing how Oscar ended up trusting Max so deeply that he now allows him physical contact.
And, of course, there’s a final Lestappen scene that is very… mmm… 😏
As I warned you on AO3: since the race went terribly for Ferrari (fuck that absolute strategy disaster, seriously… I know we had worse races but still.. the potential was there but they messed it up since Qualis.. though congrats to Max on P2!) I’m posting the new chapter of my Lestappen (+ Landoscar) Jail AU tomorrow.
Our little Italian duckling is about to get into some trouble with the East Sector, which will send Charles straight into murderous mode ( with Max, naturally, drooling over it 🤤) and lead to the first real clash between Max and Oscar.
I’m sorry, but it had to happen. I need this conflict so I can finally give you Oscar’s backstory in the following chapter 👀
The Weekend Everything Changed. (3014 words) by Teengladers
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Formula 1 RPF
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Characters: Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, Arthur Leclerc - Mentioned
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Monaco Grand Prix, Charles Leclerc is Not a Driver, Model Charles Leclerc, Slow Burn, Flirting, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, Soft Max Verstappen, Oblivious Max Verstappen, Oblivious Charles Leclerc, Developing Relationship, Idiots in Love, Not Beta we die like ferrari straregies, Author Is Sleep Deprived, No AI Used, All mistakes are my own and i am proud of them., My First Work in This Fandom
Summary:
Max Verstappen expects the Monaco Grand Prix to be just another race weekend -- until he keeps running into Ferrari's latest guest, world-famous model Charles Leclerc.
What starts as a chance meeting in the paddock turns into late-night conversations, unexpected chemistry, and the possibility that some victories matter more than trophies.
summary — the pr stunt feels like it's going too well when you're less focused on promoting your careers and too busy up after hours.
pairings — franco colapinto x actress!reader
pronouns — none, but fem!presenting
word count — 1788
note — 18+ MDNI. i found this plot in my drafts and completely forgot about it so here it is :)
"GOD," HIS GROAN WAS deep, one that he had been holding in for hours. "thank god that is over now."
"mhm," you hummed absently. the world outside seemed to drift by into darkness without an afterthought, too caught up in mobs of cars and desperate paparazzi as dusk melted into starry darkness.
the hotel was nice. it was an expensive suite in cannes' JW marriott hotel. it was far too big of a room but it was spacious enough to keep distance from franco for moments like this, where he was pissing you off.
he'd been receiving the silent treatment for the past few hours and it was driving him insane. in all the months that this stunt had been going on for, this was the quietest and most distant you had ever been. franco was losing his mind in your silence, his thoughts cloudy in the sensory deprivation you were stranding him in.
all because he wouldn't hold your hand.
the whole reason he had accompanied you to the cannes film festival was to support you with your acting career and so that you didn't have to go alone. that was his entire purpose: you went to his F1 races where you could, and he went to your events with you where he could. the pr stunt was to boost your careers, and yet here he was refusing to uphold the image that months of hard work had gone into.
sighing, franco crossed the room to where you sat on the window seat. you looked ethereal under the stars, still dressed in that gorgeous, strapless gown of sparkles and silk. your makeup was the same sparkly silver to match, but all he remembered was wanting to taste the bubblegum pink lip gloss coating your lips in a delicious shine. "i'm sorry, mi amor."
his heart stuttered when you didn't spare him a glance. you kept your gaze locked on the window, a gentle pout on your lips like he had truly shattered your heart into a million pieces. like you weren't being dramatic and petty because he couldn't do one thing for you.
what else good was he for? his image was a good thing for you at the moment, but holding your hand was where he felt the line had been crossed? how silly considering the paparazzi had photos of his tongue down your throat on his side of the williams garage in miami.
witholding from sighing again, franco crossed the room until he was kneeling on the floor beside your knees. his suit jacket had been discarded long before entering the hotel room, and the top button of his shirt had been undone at the same time that he loosened his tie. hair messy now that the event was over for the night, he looked up at you with eyes so gorgeous that it was better if you kept staring out the window.
"tell me how i can fix it . . . please," he was borderline pleading with you for something, anything. his fingers twitched, begging to embrace any part of you he could touch. "i'll do anything," he breathed, "just tell me what to do . . ."
you took a breath that felt cold, one that rattled the inside of your chest and sent fuzziness up your spinal cord and into your brain. "you don't have to like me," your voice was quiet, a contained that you only seemed to keep within your private life, far from the extroverted persona you showed to the public. "but we need this to work, franco." with a slight shake of your head, you added, "if you've met someone, tell me so we can call this whole thing off without the embarrassment."
you had been under the suspicion that franco had met someone new for at least a month now. he had become distant in a way that was so unnatural. ever since the two of you had met, physical touch hadn't been an issue. hell, he held your hand when the cameras weren't even around, sometimes he'd even loop his arm through yours while you were walking together. that had been erased since the beginning of the month and it left a sour taste in your mouth. you didn't want to be embarrassed by having the public catch on first before anything was confirmed. they were vultures and you wanted the upper hand.
"you're clearly not interested in this anymore," you finally turned to face him. his eyes sparkled in the moonlight in a way that made him so beautifully picturesque. they were a watercolour that shimmered delightfully with all the words he couldn't say, a melting shade that bled blue into green into hazel and gold. "you could've just told me that instead of being distant. communication is kinda the whole point, y'know?"
oh, no. oh, no, no, no, no. this was not what he had thought had crossed your mind. it actually hurt him to hear your pretty voice say such sad words.
"no," he breathed, shaking his head like his life depended on it. his fluffy hair lost the position it had been tampered to sit in as the hair product finally broke its bond on the amount of hold it once provided. you thought his hair looked better this way, anyway. "tell me you don't believe that."
you scoffed, glancing back out the window for a moment. the crowds were starting to disperse from below, the hotel security managing to finally get them under control. it released a certain weight from your bare shoulders. "how can i not believe that?" you questioned.
and suddenly franco felt like the idiot. the whole time he had no idea that you were truly hurting from his actions — the actions that he hadn't even realised were harmful in the first place.
"god," he said your name like a prayer in the dark. "i never meant—" he cut himself off when words failed, reaching out to grasp your hands with his own. your eyes found him once more. "i'm sorry."
it was breathy, undertones of a certain desperation that struck through every syllable. it was the most sincere apology he had ever given, so much so that he felt it tear through his heart.
your stare was quite blank, a gentle, very subtle tilt of your head told him that you weren't on the same page as him. confused, you waited for him to elaborate.
"it became so real," franco spoke hardly above a whisper, carefully squeezing your hands like you would disappear. he watched your eyebrows knit together. "i thought that if i distanced myself a little more than it wouldn't hurt so bad when it was all over."
"what are you saying . . ." you trailed off. you knew where he was going with this but you needed him to spell it out to be sure of it.
you needed to know you were on the same page, the same paragraph, the same line and the same word.
"i love you," he blurt out like it had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for months. little did you know, it had. "i didn't mean to fall in love with you and now i'm scared of losing what we have because i stupidly just admitted that this is so real to me. i can't play pretend anymore . . ."
you shocked him by kissing him so fiercely it was like a fire had sprouted from the ashes of your annoyance. you rose from the seat and collided into him with so much force that it sent him letting go of your left hand to stabilise himself before he tumbled over entirely. it took him a quarter of a second until he melted, your embers sparking his own fire into existence. he coaxed you into straddling his lap fairly easily, your dress bunching awkwardly on either sides of him. in the brief glimpse he got before closing his eyes again, the fabric draped across him and the ground was such a sight that he wished he could commit it to memory.
his fingers felt through your dress as if he could reach skin, scrambling for whatever he could grab. it was messy desperation that he swore he wouldn't ever fall into when you deserved nothing less than being treated like the gorgeous angel you were. it was hard to think that now when you had been the one to start it.
"i love you," you mumbled into his lips, sliding further up his lap until you heard a pretty sigh of desperation escape him. his lips were parted and were starting to puff up from how hard you had kissed him. if you looked closer, you swore you would be able to see the imprints of your teeth in them. "thought you hated me . . ." you gasped quietly when he moved under you, his head lolling as your forehead fell forward to press against his shoulder.
"never," he breathed, leaning forward to chase all the access you had just granted him to your neck. "you're everything to me." his teeth sunk into your skin and your eyes rolled, too hooked on the feeling you had been praying to experience for far too long now. there would be marks too high to cover properly tomorrow but you couldn't stop him now, nor did you want to.
really, nor did you care.
"'m gonna do this properly," he promised, breathless. with your eyes closed, you shivered when you felt one of his hands trace up the inside of your thigh. small, teasing patterns, just enough to frustrate you into silently begging for something, anything. "gonna take you out on a nice date and ask you to be my girlfriend. gonna make this real . . ." a quiet sound escaped your throat when he found the waistband of your dainty, lace underwear. he snapped it against your skin twice before daring to explore lower. "tomorrow, yes?"
you were almost so lost in everything that was him that you didn't hear him until his fingers stopped. "hm . . .? yeah," you agreed haphazardly, blinking rapidly to try bring yourself back to reality. it was impossible to achieve when his lips connected with your jaw. "tomorrow . . . perfect."
the expensive, plush rug under you was the perfect invite for you to gain back just enough willpower to push franco until his back was flat against it, the long fibres tickling the sides of his face. nimbly, you worked to loosen his tie enough to tug it off before working on the buttons of his shirt. your lips met back in the middle once more like perfect magnets, the perfect entanglement to make every other thought vanish into nothingness.
